Just when I thought I had seen it all, yesterday got even more interesting.  After braving a shower (and braving it is, because just imagine showering with hot water and then rubbing a nice, rough towel all over hands and feet covered in canker sores - yeah!), I noticed that the bathmat was soaked. Really soaked.  "How odd," I thought.  "I know I had the shower curtain closed."  Hmmm.

It really got interesting when I went downstairs and commented on this to my mother, who was staying with us until this morning, when the little angel went back to Oz and I returned to work.  My mother didn't think this was anything to worry about. I called my beloved and reported it to him; a plumber was already on the way because there was a bit of a drip in the shower anyway.  Yes, this is foreshadowing done badly.  My beloved also thought it was no biggie.

Five minutes later, I heard the disturbing sound of dripping in the kitchen.  I looked up, and there was a steady stream of water pouring down OUT OF THE LIGHT FIXTURE, WHICH WAS ON.  I shut off the lights and ran downstairs to try to figure out how to shut off the main water supply. My mother was quick like the wind with the wet-dry vac, obviously a veteran of leaks.  I was on the phone with my beloved, delicately screaming "Get home now! The sky is falling!" (I have always had a flair for the dramatic.)  Then I called the plumber, who talked me through turning off the water to my house. Apparently, the dipshits who owned the house before us thought it would be cute to paint the water shut-off green, which everyone knows is the color you are supposed to use for the gas shut-off.  Boy, was that confusing. The plumber kept saying, "Just shut off the one coming straight out of the wall." I kid you not, there are probably 32 pipes coming out of our basement wall - it's unfinished.  I was fairly sure I would blow up the house.  Finally, we got it shut off, my beloved arrived on the scene, the plumber arrived on the scene, and in short order, all was fixed.

Until the cat started throwing up all over everything. She threw up all over all the clean laundry. She threw up all over the rug.  She threw up so much that I called the vet, who of course said, "Bring her in." So when my beloved arrived home from work, we handed him the cat.  Apparently, they drew some bloodwork, charged us $158, gave her a Tagament to settle her stomach and sent her back home.  My mother passed out on the couch from exhaustion at 8 p.m.  I drank some wine.

Life can be tiring.